


Stockholm Fodder (AKA "Blind")

by SquiddyInks



Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Found Family, Gen, Mild Gore, OC, others might be added or mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29684202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquiddyInks/pseuds/SquiddyInks
Summary: This is a gift to my younger self, who attempted to write this long ago.The Maw is quiet, Six seemed to have vanished, the workers are at a loss. But is seems that there are a few remaining children left on the ship, but with no more guests coming in, what will become of them?
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	1. Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by ["Blind"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/766179) by SquiddInks. 



> This is my first crack at writing an A03 fic, so bear with me.

The long armed man had not visited in quite some time. All the children in the nursery were quietly speculating. Some had said he died, some said it was the yellow one who killed him. One thing was for sure, with him gone, food was no longer being given out. Many were going hungry, and some of the more braver souls had agreed to leave the room in search of an escape. 

It was the 10th night of going hungry. 12 kids gathered in a semicircle, stationed at the door that kept them locked up. The tallest one of the group spoke to the others, as best they could at least. "Up! Up!" They whispered, pointing at the other children to boost them up.

The tall one, standing on the shoulders of a significantly shorter one, gripped the doorknob and pulled with all their might. And as the door gave way, they fell to the ground. The door was open, and all of them were free. 11 of the children had torn apart their room and managed to salvage some form of supplies. Spare bedding for rope, bed legs for staffs and weapons, they had prepared as best they could. Well, all for one that is. Arguably one of the shortest children did not prepare, in fact, she did not plan on leaving at all. 

She had a languid frame. Like all the children, they were not very plump, and very ratty in general. Their hair could be described as a light rusty color, it was tangled beyond saving. She didn't have a name, not an official name anyways. None of the remaining children did, they just called each other syllables, due to their lack of a real vocabulary. So kids called her 'J', like the sound, and that's all she ever knew. 

J felt a tug on her arm, the fellow children wanted her to come with. "J, come, come!"

But J shook her head, there was no where they wished to go. And they couldn't find the energy to care, they were too weak, too hungry, and too small to survive. Just one of those internal instincts, that despite everything, you couldn't go. So everyone left. And rightly so, there was no telling when the long armed man would return, if at all. And so J was left alone. Now, the room to themselves.

...

The janitor was alive. For the most part at least. Sitting in the Twin's kitchen. After the fiasco with Six, he nearly bled out, but luckily the chefs had come to his aide. "Sorry Rodgah, i'm not the best at sewin'.." Huffed the second chef, wrapping up a needle and thread.

"No need to apologize, none of us are doctors. I'm just glad I can still feel my fingers!" Chuckled the Janitor, voice raspy and aged.

"Well that's a relief," grunted chef 1, "When that little cloaked brat ran through ere' we knew somethin' must've happened to ya." 

That is true. Not many children could get past the janitor, he was thankful that the chefs had enough intuition to assess the situation. He thought them to be a duo of bumbling idiots, but now it seemed they had at least half a brain. The janitor flexed his hand, suddenly remembering his job. "Any news from the lady? What happened up here while I was out?"

Chef 1 made a sigh of annoyance. "No idea, elevator stopped working a few days ago, lucky we have enough food down here or else we'd starve."

"Stopped working? Didn't you call up? T-The bellhop? He works up there, could you get through to him?"

"Nadda, phone lines are down too, we can't contact anyone, upstairs or down." Twin 2 sighed, mopping up the blood stained floor. 

The janitor was stunned to say the least, he was grateful that the chefs could get to him before the power outage. He would have died for sure. "I'll have to take a look at it, I can navigate these tight spaces quite easily, I'll find the lady and try to fix the generator."

"In your state? No way, your room is a way shorter climb, go down and rest for awhile, we can handle it up here" Chef 2 replied worriedly. 

"Besides, I think you should check up on tha children. You've been gone for awhile, they might have died or escaped."

Oh right, the children. The janitor had completely spaced it. Who knows what kind of scene he'd stumble upon when he goes back down. Nodding, the Janitor stood up from his position. "Might I bother you for some food, the cafeteria down there is completely under stocked. "

The twins obliged and sent the janitor on his way with a bag stuffed with cheeses and meats. It wasn't very often he got to eat food straight from the kitchen since it was usually reserved for the guests. Despite getting his arms hacked off and sewn back on, the day seemed to be going better that usual. Making sure to avoid banging his head on any stray pipes, the janitor made note of the salty ocean scent he had grown so used to. He was nearly there. 


	2. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger makes a discovery.

Though he could not see it, the familiarity of the room confirmed that it was indeed his. The subtle movement of the floor, the faint sound of sloshing waves and pipes releasing steam, all felt like home.

With a gentle push, the Janitor stepped into his room, hearing the familiar sound of skittering nomes. At least they were still there. Setting down the bag of food, the Janitor pulled down his bed and gave out a large sigh. His neck twitching a bit as he did so. He was tired, and in times like these he would love to fall asleep. But he had a job to do, and nobody else could do it, He wasn't even sure if he wanted to. What if all the children died? Or worse, escaped? Better check to make sure. Even if he wasn't getting paid to do it.

He called it the nursery, "The Prison" just sounded too dark for him. Even if it was an accurate descriptor of the place. He checked on the eye first. Usually it loomed overhead, freezing anyone who dared to come in contact with it's deadly floodlights. It was deactivated, strange, but it made sense, The janitor had been gone for quite some time, it probably shut off automatically. Or so he thought. When he ascended the stairs to get a better 'look' he noticed that the switch to the eye was completely broken. Sparks flying off the exposed mechanical parts could have caused a fire if he wasn't careful enough. From what he could make out using touch, there seemed to be a couple of sharp rods sticking out of the now destroyed lever. "Well well well, that's certainly new." He chuckled to himself.

Normally this would cause a panic, but with lack of response from the lady, the janitor was hardly worried. Nothing he couldn't fix himself. Continuing on, Roger finally found himself to the main door of the nursery. He prepared himself to be ambushed, or struck with the smell of rot, but he also prepared for nothing at all. Not wasting time he twisted the doorknob, he never locked it. The door creaked open, and he stuck his head inside, the rest of his body following.

It was quiet.

That should have been expected of course, but... It was 'very' quiet. No breathing, no shifting bodies. There was no smell of rot. Were they all gone? The janitor slowly checked each bed, pillows and sheets gone, along with the kids. Now he was a tad worried, but not too much. This was not what he had expected, but it was not out of the realm of possibility. The children had simply left. Frankly, Roger was surprised. The children had never been independent. And they never had shown signs of rebellion.   
Impressive.

He chuckled softly, children's flesh tasted horrible anyways. 

He turned back to the door, he'll report to the twins in the morning. But just as his hand made contact with the brass of the doorknob, he heard a faint sneeze. He quickly snapped his neck around, already pinpointing the location of the noise. He advanced towards it, earning another sound of feet against wood. Whatever it was, it was on the move. 

However, this was nothing his long arms couldn't handle. He shot his arms forward and grabbed at the movement he could hear. His arms somehow extending. He heard a crack, and winced. Surely he didn't break his arm? No, just merely popped it, he had forgotten that they had just been recently attached. But he had hesitated for too long, the moving object had picked up pace. He could hear them near the second east door of the room. He heard thumps of skin on wet wood. It was trying to reach the door handle. This confirmed Roger's suspicion, it was indeed a child. He grabbed again, this time successfully. 

The small thing wriggled in his palm, it felt very skinny. Even if he were to eat it, it would not sustain a guest, let alone himself. He stroked his hand over it, trying to identify this one. He didn't have names, but he knew minimal info about each child. This one was very small, tangled hair, and nothing but bones. He recognized it, it was the runt of the litter (as he called it). Female, barely 10 pounds, quiet. He chuckled dryly. "Did your friends leave you behind?"

The child stopped. It did not understand full sentences, but it felt as though it was being addressed. The small one shook in Roger's hands, it was obviously terrified, but too weak to vocalize that. Now of course there was the faintest bit of pity in his heart, Roger never ignored that. With the lady nowhere to be found, what would he do with this kid?

The prison stood still for a few moments. Roger, hearing the waves crash against the maw, stood there thinking. 

This seemed to be the last child on the Maw. It would be useless to let it die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a tad short, longer chapters should be happening soon! Thank you for reading


	3. Happenings and Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little pov of all the Maw staff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know who the Bellhop is, i suggest looking him up before proceeding. :)

J had stopped struggling. There were a few reasons for this, but it mostly came down to the fact that resistance was futile. What is one to do in this situation? There was no point.

Roger felt the now limp child in his hand, it had stopped trying to get away finally. Now sitting (somewhat) comfortably in his grip. "Tiny little thing." He mumbled, finding his way back to his bedroom.

To ensure that the child would not escape, Roger had decided to lock it up once more. This time in a closer proximity. If the lady was to show up, he'd need to have some semblance of proof that he hadn't totally screwed up. Not that he feared her, no way. Once stepping into his room, using his non occupied hand, Roger opened up his drawer and shuffled around. He had many different cage sizes, grabbing the smallest one possible. "Alright ya little runt, in you go." He chimed, opening the cage and quickly placing the child inside.

Mission accomplished.

"Now let's see about that food."

~~~~

A bellhop's job is to provide service, to carry luggage. And that's exactly what the Bellhop did. But now the Maw was silent. He was never much for interacting with people, only the staff knew of his existence, but now he worried that something had gone wrong. He couldn't telephone to the lady, or the chefs, or even the janitor! The elevator was busted as well, so transportation was severely limited. Now, usually, he wouldn't mind this, but after living off of disgusting table scraps, the Bellhop was ready to take his chances swimming. He had to contact the Lady somehow.   
Leaving the dining area of the Maw, the Bellhop headed towards his lobby, there was an upper level map of the maw, so perhaps he could find an alternative route to the lady's quarters.

The emptiness of the dining rooms worried him though. Usually after these feasts, the lady would begin her scheme, extracting their life force and leaving the guests' bodies to be used as fuel and food. But there was no sign of them anywhere, only half empty plates. 

This lobby was probably one of the more lovely places of the Maw. Beautiful carved wood lining the walls, a fairly vibrant red carpet leading to the welcoming desk, and perfectly dimmed lights hanging from the ceiling. To the left of the room there were sitting areas for supposed guests. Never used, they were too busy stuffing their faces to admire such art. Lots of portraits as well, many different generations of Geishas, the Bellhop wondered about them. To the right was the map. Framed in a thick intricate bronze frame. The Bellhop scanned it. Pinpointing his location and looking around for a hallway or some stairs. "Ah..." He heaved through shorted breath.

There was another way, a rather... difficult way. A very tall spiral staircase, leading to a storage room near the Lady's quarters. Now, the Bellhop wasn't out of shape. But his drooping 'skin' caused him to be rather asthmatic. Breathing was a chore when it came to going long distances. But who else could do it? The others were trapped below the maw, it was his duty to do it for them! He would starve anyways if he didn't.

~~~~

"Hey... bro?"  
The twins were up on the balcony, Chef 1 on his smoke break. "What's up 2?"  
  
Chef 2 sighed, scratching under his mask. "Do you think something bad happened?"  
  
"Well duh, ya chowdah head, we're trapped in our kitchen."

"Not about that! I mean about da lady. You think she's ok?"

Twin 1 scoffed a little, though it was more of a cough. "Doubt it. This is the Lady we're talkin' about. She can handle herself, she's got that freaky magic stuff."

Chef 2 fiddled his thumbs. "yeah, I know that..."

Chef 1 glanced at his brother. Though his mask lay emotionless, his body language showed anxiety. "What's on yer mind?"

The brother perked up, scratching his face again before speaking. "Well i was just thinkin' about that little raincoat kid that gave us the runaround. How they managed to cut of Rodgah's arms. What if they tried to do something to the lady?"

Chef 1 nearly choked on his smoke while laughing. "Bro! Bro, listen, Rodgah got his arms hacked off because he was a careless blind old man! No matter how good his senses are, it would be easy to pull one over on 'im. There's nothin special about that lil yellow pest."

2 calmed his nerves slightly. "Well, i guess that makes sense. Don't be so mean about Rodgah though!"

Chef 1 only responded with a hearty laugh, delivering a slap against 2's back. There was nothing to worry about, the lady was completely fine.

~~~~

Roger had to hand it to the chefs, their food had greatly improved over the years. It actually tasted like food! For once in his life, he was satisfied. It was almost relaxing.

𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩

The Janitor turned his head to the area where the caged kid sat. He had nearly forgot. Bored, he pulled the cage over to the foot of his bed. "You sick little fella?"

J responded with another coughing fit. "Well, I suppose you're not a fella. Hehe." Roger lightly chuckled. 

What would he call her? Was there even a name to be given? It wasn't needed. The janitor's thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of gargling. Or maybe more of a rumbling? It was coming from the kid. The sound of hunger. Roger looked into his bag, a child wouldn't eat that much. "You want some food?" He spoke, not really looking for an answer,

"y..ya ya!"

The janitor flinched. J's voice was very faint. A child had never responded to him before, he was almost taken aback. "Oh? We've got a speaker!" He joked, pulling out some cheese, small enough for J to hold.

Placing it nicely inside the cage, Roger listened to the little one scarf it down in record time, earning another laugh from him. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘵. He thought. "If you want more just make some noise will ya," he grinned, "if,, if you know what i'm saying that is."

But J was already half asleep. "Yah..." She squeaked.

There was a feeling Roger had just then, Unlabeled. There was something very genuine about that moment. Somehow, despite being caged, J's presence made the room a little less lonely. And that was good.


End file.
